Lessons Learned in Thailand

As we begin our +24 hour ‘round the clock travel back in time, and back home to Colorado - leaving our daughter in Thailand and two sons in Seoul, Korea on another flight bound for the west coast - I can’t help but reflect on our extraordinary vacation and the top things I learned not to do in Thailand, in no particular order: 😎

1) Send our 18-year-old Thai-legal drinking-age son to the pool bar for a bucket of three beers in Phuket.  

What were we thinking? He came back about twenty minutes later with two beers (one for himself and one for his 20-year-old brother), both of which they were already sipping. 

“Where’s the beer dad and mom planned to share?” I asked laughing. 

“I already drank it at the bar,” he replied “while baby boy here was having his mango smoothie.” He said pointing at his 15-year-old younger brother. Bruh. We didn’t think he needed specific instructions to bring a beer back to his parents who paid.

I knew something didn’t add up when I left for the hotel room to shower for dinner. Sure enough, our youngest burst open the room door with a big ass smile on his face. It was then I knew he’d never be able to pass my human lie detector test - the one where he places his palms face down on mine and looks me straight in the eyes while I ask a few non-interrogating questions. Anyone who’s followed my blog over the years knows it’s 99% accurate and my kids are still believe I can see into their conscience thanks to former spy training.

Turns out it was my eldest son who gave him a sip of beer for a sip of his mango smoothie. Same dude that bought his 15-year-old brother two twelve-packs of hard seltzer back in September before he left for college. Double Bruh. I don’t blame him for having a fake ID in college, I sure as hell did, but accessory to underage drinking twice now with his younger brother? 

Thankfully my lie detector ploy still works and they weren’t doing shots at the bar on our bill. Our 20-year-old will, in fact, make it to 21 next month, as has only used two of his three strikes.

Behavior assessment and elicitation, still the best kind of operational intelligence training for parenting teens. 

2) Take my boys through what looked like the “red light” district to the famous Rat Uthit Song Roi Pi Road, which has to be the busiest road in Phuket between all the bars, restaurants, massage parlors, and souvenir shops. This was one of the most “eye opening”, entertaining, and confidence boosting experiences for all of them, as the massage ladies and lady boys cat called and reached out to touch them. 

All three of my boys had an over-under bet going as to who won the most attention. I’m pretty sure it was my street-wise youngest with the reflective shades and confidence of a gangsta coming in at 17 hits, though he claims he had over 30 propositions. 

“Oooh, he so cute mama,” not what he, nor I, was going for in that situation. Though totally buzzkill hilarious in my opinion. 

My husband, on the other hand, lingered a bit long at the corner with two or three of them in short skirts, long legs and heels, praising him for being the father of three sons. It was his Cheshire Cat shit eating grin I could see a block away that helped identify his location in the crowd. 

I’m quite certain it was all four of my boys (husband included) for the win that night. 

3) Disturb a monk on Tik Tok. This time it was a Chiang Mai bike tour for the win with teens that makes any temple tolerable. Especially when the tour guide admits he could only make it nine days sober as a humble Buddhist devotee. 

Dressed in orange cloths, shoeless, and splayed out on benches, from teen monks in training, to full-blown monks of at least 60 years in a more erect poses, they were all locked in on their screens, smiling and sometimes laughing out loud. 

“It’s their downtime and sometimes a bro just gotta scroll,” my boys chimed in once they caught me staring. 

The irony. Has Buddha even seen what’s on the internet these days? Alcohol is the least of his worries. I’m just glad I only have one teen’s screen time left to monitor. Imagine all those monks. 

4) Say “I can’t believe we haven’t had food poisoning in Thailand” on New Year’s Eve. It comes on typhoon quick if you don’t knock on wood, no matter how careful you’ve been. 

All four kids took off for Ao Nang Beach the second we reached the Krabi, Thailand hotel. My husband and I picked up our fresh coconuts from the hotel lobby to catch a moment alone before dinner. 

“It’s been amazing no one has gotten sick,” I said to my husband sipping the lukewarm coconut water on the patio outside our hotel, more than a week into our epic two-week Thailand vacation. I was iPhone searching for a waterfront restaurant with a 4.5 star review where a family of six could dine with cocktails for under $40. We were famished having last eaten the Phuket hotel breakfast buffet where Thai noodles and curry mingled with fresh dragon fruit, melon, muesli and “eggs done your way”, and we were eager to catch up with our daughter who had joined us again after a few days teaching English in the north. Our few restaurant moments of serenity orange and pink sherbet sunset were interrupted as soon as our four raucous kids arrived in search of appetizers, mojitos and fresh mango smoothies.  

We ordered local tuna and snapper, a leg of lamb, a sampling of chicken curries and beef for the oldest and youngest, seemingly less adventurous children. Plus mango sticky rice dessert - a “must have” every night in Thailand. My tuna was overdone but tasty, so I refused to send it back, despite my hubby’s prodding. 

Our New Year’s Eve oceanfront dinner was followed by a hotel “foam” pool party with a live DJ. We danced to Rhythm of the Night (circa 90s French discotheque mom), Dancing Queen, and Highway to Hell, with bubbles on our heads playing spike ball in the pool. A group of dancing Russians were mixing it up poolside and belting the lyrics.  

The kids bolted for the beach as soon as the party ended to meet up with their big sister’s friends, after they signed their youngest brother’s name to the bar bill. Again, tradecraft uncovers the truth every time, but I digress. 

I figured it was the Mai Tai at the hotel bar that tasted like fruit punch Kool Aid, or the coconut water that had my stomach in knots as we headed to a fire and fireworks display on Ao Nang beach rivaling Beirut. 

Bottle rockets launched into the ocean, Roman candles spun sideways, lanterns lit aflame and launched into trees, and sparklers drifted dangerously close to blonde hair. It was a melting pot of humanity, in languages from every continent, precariously intertwined with flaming lighters. 

We found the kids seated behind a group of Russians, mini Stoli Vodka bottles in hand, partying to a techno beat, before they took off again to meet friends. 

“And I thought D.C. had the best fireworks,” I said to my husband. “Now we are literally in them!” I quickly took a seat on the bank of the beach scene chaos, curiously more nauseated, pained in the gut, and strikingly sober. 

By the stroke of midnight when we all stood as a beach community in international glory having survived the inferno, and the past year, I couldn’t wait to high-tail it out of there and back to the privacy of my own hotel. There was a “tsunami” fast approaching and I didn’t want to be a casualty in the crowd. I kept trying to erase the images of Melissa McCarthy from Bridesmaids in my mind, but they erupted on repeat as I marched faster to the hotel on a mission before unraveling.

The catastrophic force of the new year’s reckoning brought suffering of epic proportions for the three of us who didn’t order the snapper or beef, despite having chosen restaurants with high ratings and large crowds. 

It was New Year’s Eve “Hangover style” in Thailand and a memory that will last a lifetime. Did we check into the Hangover Hostel? You could’ve fooled me.

Food poisoning may be worse than childbirth. At least you get a cute baby after nearly dying of pain. 

I’m fairly certain the oldest two college boys have sworn off beer and Thai food, and it’s gonna be a long while before I brave seafood again. 

The next day my daughter found me barely conscious in bed, showing me the video of her being hit in the shoulder by a firework while wading in the ocean. “You are lucky you weren’t burned,” I replied, relieved all four kids were accounted for in the next room, despite two still in bed on a Pepto-Bismol schedule, feeling Covid achy all over. We had snorkeling plans the next day!

Pretty sure New Years Eve 2026 will go down in history as one we all survived. What felt like a yearlong experience - fire and fireworks - in the span of 24 hours. Thankfully it wasn’t typhoid and we didn’t regret cheap-skating our way out of the $185 shots. Who can afford that expense on top of the flight costs and dog-sitting?

5) Assume credit card is accepted everywhere like Europe. It’s cash or “Line” Thai bank account, or scramble together enough Thai baht from your kids to pay the bill when stranded remotely without an ATM. (See trek to Moo Deng hippo south of Bangkok.) Always carry more cash than you think you need. Thailand is full of honest people who sell delicious food and gorgeous jewelry. Besides, transportation for six can’t always be on bicycle. 

6) Buy street mango that isn’t cold. Too late to say “I told you so” to my youngest who didn’t listen or experience “the rapture” on NYE 2026. Luckily, mom planned ahead for pepto times six before we boarded our flight home. 

7) Stop moving. Always book bike tours or walking tours, or beach with teens.  Hotel WiFi provides for endless monk scrolling. 

8) Lose your husband. It happened more than once, though we both agree 30 years is a long time to stick together. Even the kids now understand the effort it takes to keep him centered and focused on the group, unless he’s following us on a bike. I’ve learned to carry plenty of my own cash, and a Thailand eSIM plan was key for navigating the two of us.

And last but not least, the things I learned to do more often:

-Take the risk. Like our pandemic month-long RV trek, Forced Family Fun in Thailand was a success. We didn’t lose a single person on the streets of Bangkok as I feared. Only some dignity in a bathroom or two. 

“Those toilet hoses are a lifesaver,” according to my boys, which proves they were cultured in Thailand.

-Float like a starfish for several hours in the ocean. It really is possible, and meditative, if you put your mind to it (and leave the kids to their own devices).